Oldest dog hates chemotherapy

Thanks.

Sorry about the going on.

Not at all -- precisely what we're here for.

I keep thinking, "I wish I could tell him what's going on."







But he's probably better off now knowing...

Yeah. That adds another layer, when you can't discuss it with them. I had a pretty meaningful exchange of looks with my dog the last time I saw him before he died though -- he was sick then, and old, but there wasn't any reason to think his death would be imminent. Something about how he looked at me as I was about to leave, though (I was visiting home from college), and I kept going back and saying goodbye again, and stroking his fine old head, and telling him what a good dog he was.

It felt pretty final, and turned out to be.

PatioD, I am not going to post much here, as I and my dog have been through similar throes lately, and I had two long threads about it, one very long, nigh obnoxious in the sense of an emotional a2k thread. I'm sure it was a skip for many. I just reread it and bawled, sobbed, my heart out. I don't want you to read it (the thread did progress) for about six months, so I won't give a link. Don't read it until later, please.

meantime, I give Otis and you and your wife my love.



Your feelings will inform your veterinary practice, but you know that already. You are a boy and his dog.

Thanks, osso, thanks, soz.




Hadn't noticed until now, osso, that the avatar pic looks like a particular dog with particular background and a particular way of looking at the world, where the old pic I'd grown accustomed to looked like, well, a corgi. Not intending to make anything of it, other than the present avatar has a particularly soulful expression about him...

I thought of Otis recently, wondered if he was still swimming and kicking and stuff and wasn't sure if it would be good to ask and remind you. Here to listen.

Ah shoot. You're thinking it through, pdog. Good for you. I'd been meaning to bump this thread up again, but just wasn't sure. I feel like so many people had so many great things to tell me, when I was going through this. I can't think of much to say. Except for relaying the relief and solace I found reporting on my Baby Dog thread.

So, keep posting - we're here.

I'm sorry to hear that, pdog. I had to go through the pain of losing a
dog twice and it's been hell every time. I am hoping to get lots of more time out of our 10 year old dog, as I can't even think about losing him...

It's hard, very hard. Hang in there, we're here to hold hands and listen.....

My post didna sound right, just don't want to drag even more attention my way, which I am even by posting this. Gaaaaaaah.



Back to boy and his dog - is that not the primeval connection? (or girl, of course)

Well, we're listening to a couple of recent rootsy albums mashed up together right now. It's probably not doing much for him either way, but it's brightening me right now with hopeful foolish earnest music.

God bless these midwestern singing boys with their basement studios. And god bless these dogs. And when it comes to matters dogworthy, this broad, flat, corny midwest is better'n most corners of the globe, with their wrinkle-browed farm dogs and crazy-mouthed no-brained bird-dogs...

a weird canajun gal with one of her weird 80's songs

Jane Siberry

Everything Reminds Me Of My Dog

everything reminds me of my dog
the guy in the store reminds me of my dog
telephones remind me of my dog...yoohoo
taxicabs remind me too

if you remind me of my dog
we'll probably git along little doggie
git along git along little doggie git a...

smiling at strangers reminds me of my dog
(better let them know you're friendly)
the way people dress reminds me too
pissing on their favourite tree
sad things remind me of my dog
cockroaches and other insects
remind me too, don't eat them
the blank expression of the little boy
with thick glasses who picks
himself up from the sidewalk
and stands there blinking in the sun
ho oh!

if you remind me of my dog
we'll probably git along little doggie
git along git along little doggie git a...

like the man on the subway
sitting across from me
and every time I looked at him he smiled
and by the time
I got to the end of the subway line
I 'd given him at least ...oh...25 cookies

guys in bars remind me of my dog
the way it takes you so long
to choose the perfect table

if you remind me of my dog
we'll probably git along little doggie
git along git along little doggie git a...

me and my ferocious dog
we're walking down the street
and everyone we meet says
"ach yer a goot doogie !...
"ach yer a goot doogie!..."
"ach yer a goot doogie!..."

except when we go for a walk
to get the Sunday paper
I stand there and read the headlines
he reads the wind
sometimes he hits a funny smell and laughs
I hate it when he does that- I feel so dumb
what? what? I say

everything reminds me of my dog
beautiful things
sunsets remind me of my dog
Gina go to your window
Einstein reminds me of me dog
I want to pat his fluffy head
this whole world reminds me of my dog
my dog reminds me of this whole world
do I remind you of a dog? (thump thump)
I do? (faster thump thump)
skyscrapers remind me of my dog
sitting in the tall grass waiting for a rabbit
guys in red cameros too
it's getting to be a habit
artists remind me of my dog
staking out their originality on the nearest tree
old folks remind me of my dog
my dog reminds old people of their dogs
(Barfy, Ruffo, Beanhead)
Gina says I remind her of the dog
the that way I just did that
golfers teeing off remind me of my dog
the way he sits by me and shifts on his front paws

what is it you want? look at it...
do you want to go for a walk? do you want a cookie?
do you want me to dial the number for you?

Patiodog--

I've buried seven dogs now and am awed at the dignity with which dogs approach inevitable death.

Iffy is very tired....sleeping a lot...nibbling at dog food and occasionally rejecting people food...and two or three times a day she summons the energy to announce to the mountainside that she's alive and in change and lesser breeds can just listen and tremble to her mighty bark.

You've given Otis more time for enjoyment and Otis is a dog devoted to enthusiastic living.

Iffy sounds very mighty.

Otis has already been through a can't-eat-can't-drink phase. It was hard to imagine him living at that point. The drugs were miraculous, in their way. But they only buy a little bit of time.

I shared a chicken breast with Otis a little while ago. I think a lot of a young couple who came in with their dog who had a bloody foot about a month after Otis was really sick. I found a tumor on the guy, and it's got him doomed to a pretty short sentence, and they're a young optimistic couple in a lot of debt (the way we are) and they can't turn down helping their dog. They've gone way into hock fixing the foot on this dog, and I could never ask them to stop, because it would be worse for them if they didn't try.

I almost feel like if I hadn't found it they'd be happier now, not knowing he doesn't have that much more time.

Aaaargh. I get you.


My midget Siamese, Miranda, is awaiting her next (third) of whatever cats have that aren't really strokes, but look like 'em.


Although briefly very affected by the first one, she had no idea of being ill, and remained perfectly happy....just fell over all the time and such, and got up in a surprised but cheerful way.


Against prognostication, she appered to completely recover.



Her next one was less dramatic, but she remains a little wobbly on her feet when making turns.


Again, completely unaffected in spirits.


Neither she nor I know when the next one will come, and whether it will be the one that kills her, or leaves her too ill to have a happy life.


We are both happier for that.




Patio, you're in a tougher role with Otis, because you know it is soon, as did the young couple.

He's still around, their dog. I see him once or twice a week. (It's very expensive and difficult, this foot thing.) It's an odd sort of mirror situation. I don't see his people as often, though.

Have you talked with his people about the similarities?

PD, It was with some trepidation that I opened this thread. Expecting the worst. Not yet. That's good.

You can prepare yourself as best you can, but preparation can take you only so far. The reality sucks.

I'll be thinking about you and Otis.

Thanks again, osso.

K, I talked to them about it at the very beginning, and one of the docs and I tried to be as candid and as supportive as possible. Since then -- well, they're boy's not even sick from the cancer yet. It'll come quick when he is, though. It's right next to his spinal column.

Ah, it was causing a limp? And hence the bloody paw?